The vice-captain didn't waste the opening.
"Archers, suppressive fire! Channelers, reinforce the barrier! Combat resonators—with me!"
The gates burst open as a wave of reinforcements surged forward—elite guards and veteran resonators, their weapons gleaming under the pale morning light. Most held the walls, raining arrows and spells down on the horde, while the strongest leaped into the fray, carving through monsters with disciplined efficiency.
The tide was turning.
What had once been a desperate defense now became a brutal counterattack. Over a thousand monsters still thrashed against them, but the coordinated assault of 200 hardened fighters—led by the whirlwind of death in black—pushed them back.
A green portal tore open beside the predator, more precisely Aman, its edges crackling with unstable energy. From it stepped a silver-haired figure, his face obscured by a sleek, featureless mask. He moved with the same lethal grace as Aman, his presence sending a visible shudder through the nearby monsters just by looking at him.
The two exchanged words—too quiet for anyone else to hear. Aman nodded once, sharply, before the newcomer turned toward the horde.
What followed was carnage perfected.
The silver-haired stranger moved like a storm, his techniques mirroring Aman's but amplified—wider arcs, deeper cuts, a controlled fury that left monsters bisected before they could scream. Aman flanked him, their movements synchronized as if they'd trained together for decades.
Thirty seconds. Fifty more corpses.
Then, as suddenly as they'd appeared, the two vanished through the portal—leaving behind only a battlefield littered with the dead.
None of the duo or the guards saw the shadow that slipped in after them.
The vice-captain's eyes flickered to where the two black-clad figures had vanished, the green portal dissipating like smoke in the wind.
For a heartbeat, he hesitated—who were they? Why had they helped?
But the battlefield demanded his attention. The monsters, their ranks shattered, were now fleeing in disarray, their unnatural coordination broken.
"Press the advantage!" he roared. "Drive them back to the forest!"
The guards surged forward with renewed vigor, cutting down the stragglers with ruthless efficiency. Though questions about their mysterious benefactors lingered, gratitude won out—whoever they were, they'd turned the tide.
We owe them our lives, the vice-captain thought, chasing after the last of the horde while making sure they wouldn't get in the way of the five figures who were still fighting against the real threats.
But, from the looks of it, it wouldn't be too long before their battles end.
The morning had begun like any other day at the academy.
Students hurried through the snow-dusted courtyards, some laughing as they tossed snowballs, others groaning about early lectures. Teachers ushered stragglers inside, their breath forming clouds in the crisp air.
A sound like shattering glass echoed across the grounds. In the heart of the main courtyard, the very air split—a jagged, dark green fissure tearing open in space. Students froze, some backing away, others leaning closer in curiosity.
Snarling, slavering, their eyes burning with the same unnatural glow as the horde outside the city. The academy's alarm blared to life instantly, an anxious voice booming across the campus:
"EMERGENCY LOCKDOWN. ALL STUDENTS RETURN TO The Grand Assembly Hall IMMEDIATELY."
Screams filled the air as students turned and ran, their feet slipping on the snow. Teachers and guards rushed forward, their auras flaring as they formed a defensive line.
"Go! GO!" roared a professor, her hands already weaving an aura barrier.
The academy's recently recruited elite guardians—resonators handpicked for their combat prowess—leaped into action, intercepting the powerful alpha-level monsters that lumbered from the fissure. Techniques and steel clashed against fang and claw, the force of their collisions shaking the ground.
But there were too many.
The monsters kept coming, as if it were an endless tide. The guardians fought valiantly, luring the strongest beasts away from the fleeing students, but the sheer numbers overwhelmed them.
Step by step, they were forced back.
The building loomed ahead, their protective barrier shimmering—so close—but the monsters were faster.
A pack of ice wolves broke through the defensive line, their maws dripping frost as they lunged for the stragglers—a group of first-years too slow to outrun the tide.
One girl stumbled, her terrified scream piercing the air as the lead wolf's jaws gaped wide—
A sword blocked the strike, the impact sending sparks flying.
The sword trembled against the wolf's fangs—but the hand holding it didn't waver.
Black hair whipped in the cold wind as Aeron stood firm, his golden eyes burning with defiance. The ice wolf snarled, its frost-laden breath washing over him, but he didn't flinch.
Emilia's voice rang out, shrill with panic. The blonde-haired girl had stopped running, her hands clenched into fists.
Without turning, Aeron shouted back, "Run! I'll hold them back!" His blade flashed, carving a deep gash across the wolf's muzzle. "Trust me!"
For a heartbeat, the students hesitated. Then Livia—her usual calm replaced by urgency—grabbed the terrified first year's arm. "Move!"
The group scrambled away, dragging the first-year with them. Only Emilia and Livia lingered for a second longer, their gazes locked on Aeron's back.
Aeron exhaled sharply as the last of the students cleared the distance.
But the relief lasted only a moment.
A shadow lunged from his blind spot—another snow wolf, jaws wide—
His sword met fangs just in time, but the force knocked him back a step. His boots skidded across the snow as he braced himself, muscles straining.
A fireball screamed past his ear, slamming into the wolf's chest. At the same time, an arrow thudded into its skull, the shaft buried to the fletching.
The beast collapsed mid-leap.
—and there they were.
Livia, her staff still crackling with embers. Emilia, already nocking another arrow, her hands steady despite the fear in her eyes.
Aeron's lips curled into an unconscious grin.
"Thank you," he called. Then, firmer: "Now stay back!"
He didn't wait for a reply.
Sword raised, Aeron charged forward, meeting the next wave of monsters head-on.
He wouldn't let a single one pass.
Not while he still stood.